


Love On The Brain - One: get close to you

by themarvelwriter



Series: Love On The Brain [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol, Clubbing, F/M, Fluff, Gangs, Gun Violence, New York City, Smut, Students, Violence, mafia, mobboss, mobster steve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2020-09-02 04:15:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20269855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themarvelwriter/pseuds/themarvelwriter
Summary: You’re just a student, living her normal daily life in New York. One night changes everything, without you even knowing. Steve Rogers slowly introduces you to his world full of money, drugs and voilence. But are you able to handle what he has to offer?





	1. One: get close to you

**Author's Note:**

> Part one! Every friday there'll be another chapter released!

Your heels clacked on the brown tiles, echoing through the bar. In a swift, you take place on the wooden barstool in front of you, black purse on the bar. You were ready, they made sure of it. Trained to do this, or at least, they gave it their best. Now it was just you – no one else to help you if things go wrong.

Fingers drumming on the bar impatiently. The smell of beer and sweat makes you shudder. A couple of old men are drinking a room temperature beer on the other side of the bar. They look at you, their opinions readable from their faces. But you don’t care. You’re not here for them.

The bell rings, door swept open. Finally. A broad man steps into the weak light just in front of the door. Brown greasy hair pushed into a bun, steel blue eyes scanning the room until they meet yours. A wicked grin on his face, one that steals hearts and breaks them the next day. His suit fits him perfectly. Gucci, you can tell, even from the dim light he’s in.

It’s now or never. This is a make or break – do or die. Literally. You’ve never been this afraid in your life, but at the same time you’ve never felt as confident in your life. A shy smile back to lure him to you, just like you did the first time. Putting a strand of hair behind your ear, body cramping to convince him that you’re intimidated. You’re not, even though you should be.

You got him like a fish in a net.

______________________________________________________________________

2 years ago

A black dress that flatters your figure. Your hands working on the end of the hem, fixing it, making you look even more presentable. Your neatly curved hair falls just over your shoulders, as it should after forty minutes of hard work.

You walk into the bathroom, watching if your lipstick is still in place. Leaning a little bit over the counter, squeezing your lips onto each other before releasing them with a silent pop. Your eyes roam, looking for the red lipstick you used an hour ago, probably vanished by the liquor.

A call of your name has you rolling your eyes. “Yes! I’m coming!”

Quickly you work on your lips, avoiding the perfectly done outlining, careful to not mess up your now complete look. One quick last glance in the mirror and you’re ready to go.

“What took you so long? The taxi’s already running. You’re gonna make us poor”, Wanda whines while she grabs your upper arms and drags you to the taxi. You only grin, but not wide enough to get in trouble.

Wanda can’t stop talking to you in the taxi. About how she loves your outfit. ‘Trashy but trendy’, is what she calls it. You know that she means it in a good way, but ‘trashy’ isn’t the word you should use. You don’t look like a slut or garbage, but you do look like you want some game tonight.

Driving from Queens to Manhattan takes you about fifteen minutes, before you stop at the club called ‘HULK!’. It’s a club that you’ve never been to, but Wanda’s crush was there tonight, so she begged you to come with her. 

It smells like liquor and sweat when you walk in. Red, blue and green lights covering the bodies on the dancefloor. You bite your bottom lip as you search for the bar, pulling at Wanda’s arm when you found it.

The sweet taste of a tequila shot, a burning sensation in your throat. It gives your body a warm feeling, stress from all the school assignments leaving you swiftly. It also gives you an urge to dance, to swing your sorrows away and to make dumb decisions.

The music is alright, a little bit too much ‘pop’ if anyone would ask you. A few security guards are watching the dancefloor carefully, but you’re not bothered by it, pulling Wanda away from the bar and onto the dancefloor.

You let your hips sway from left to right, hands on your body, roaming them as if you were to for the first time ever. Eyes locked on Wanda, but she’s searching the crowd for her crush.

“And?”, you ask her, not really stopping your dance moves.

“No, I can’t- Wait. Oh no. Oh my god”, she starts. You chuckle and look in the same direction as hers. Even though it’s pretty dark, you can see the blush on her cheeks. It’s adorable, really.

“Oh! She’s watching! Fuck-”

“Come on, Wan! Where’s the confident woman I know?”, you say with a light smile on your face. “If she doesn’t like you, she’s the stupid one.”

“Can you dance with me, babe? Please?” She looks at you with pleading eyes. You grab her hand, trying to calm her down and stand a little closer to her. 

“Of course. Come, let’s see what those hips can do”, you encourage. You normally don’t have to give Wanda a pep talk, so this was surprising behaviour for her. Normally, she’d be confident, telling you that ‘she got this’ and ‘she’s going to wrap them around their finger’. 

Both of you dance to the rhythm of the song, while holding each others hand. It gives her a little boost of confidence, or at least enough to loosen her hips a little. She gives you a smile, a little more sure about what she’s doing than a minute ago.

“Go talk to her”, you try after another song took over.

“But why? What do I talk about”, she asks.

“Fuck, Wan. Don’t be a pussy. What the hell is so special about her?”, you ask, a little annoyed now at how she lost all her confidence once again.

“You don’t know her. She’s so intimidating and powerful. Fuck, I like her”, she whines. You roll your eyes and push her lightly towards the girl. She hesitates at first, but gives in when you give her a second light push and a ‘you got this’. 

For you, this is the perfect timing for another drink. A normal one, this time. The place is packed, people everywhere, Wanda already out of sight. You sigh before squeezing yourself through the crowd, pushing a way to the bar. 

There’s a perfect spot for you though, right in the middle, between a couple that’s making out and two girls that are drunkily chatting. 

The bartender is busy, though, so you look around. It’s a little awkward how you’re standing next to that couple, but you try and ignore it. You watch to your left, where it’s a little bit more empty than at yours, but you don’t care. You’ve got your spot, now you’re not risking of leaving it.

You look at the people, but stop in your tracks when you notice someone watching you. Some piercing blue eyes are staring right at you. It makes your cheeks flush, your eyes finding the bartender because you can’t look at him any longer. He’s intriguing, but so incredibly handsome. 

“A white wine please”, you say. The tender nods and works on your drink. Again you eyed to your left. He didn’t move, in fact, he still looked at you. 

A little smirk and a small short nod towards you. Out of nervousness, you put a strand of hair behind your ear, but you’re bold enough to flash him a flirty smile back. 

His strong jaw, tanned skin, gorgeous blue eyes. All of it together has you swooning over him. It has you wondering why in the world he would be interested in just a normal Communications student. 

Your excitement is stronger than your insecurity, so you push those thoughts aside. The bartender brings your wine. It feels cold in your hands, a real relief in this hot humid club. 

When you search for the guy again, he’s gone. A bitter feeling is taking its place, but quickly washed away when you turn around and look directly in those beautiful pair of blue eyes again, but now from up close.

“Am I too late to pay for that wine?”, he asks. Voice is low, bringing chills all over your body. Please don’t stop talking. Ever.

“For this round, you are”, you chuckle suggestively. 

“Steve”, he introduces himself. You say your name and take a step aside so he can join you at the bar. The man smells like roses and leather. God, he smells so good.

He makes you laugh within a minute with some cliché joke. You follow up with a cliché reply, making him laugh in response. His teeth are perfectly white, his eyes sparkle as they look into yours. How can you not melt when he touches your thumb lightly with his?

“Never seen you here before”, he states as he checks you out. You do the same and spot a little tattoo on his chest, some kind of quote. 

“First time here, decided to mix it up a bit. Old clubs tend to get boring”, you say, wine glass attached to your bottom lip. You take a small sip before taking a look into the club. There are a lot of silhouettes dancing to the pop song that’s chiming through the room right now. The red lights makes it seem like some cheap strip club. 

There’s this shady vibe, though. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but you can feel some kind of tension. A few women give you arrogant glances, but you don’t really pay attention to that. 

“Steve.” There’s a dark skinned guy standing right in front of you, interrupting Steve from whatever he wanted to say to you. You look at Steve, his eyes are stale, jaw clenched. Clearly annoyed by the interruption.

“I told you to not disturb me tonight.” He doesn’t even look at the guy while saying it. Instead, he still looks at you, moving closer and biting his bottom lip.

“Steve”, the guy says again. “It’s fucking important, man.” You look at him. He has trimmed black hair, huge biceps. A man you don’t want to mess with. 

Steve now finally looks at the guy and crooks his finger, leaning in so the guy can whisper whatever he wants to discuss. Whispering? Really? 

It made you roll your eyes and sip your wine again, while you see the little show in front of you. This guy must either feel really rich and important, or he really has trust issues.

The guy nods for Steve’s answer and leaves right after, not even looking at you once this entire time. It makes you hold back another eye roll. 

“Oh and Sam”, Steve calls after him. The guy turns around. “I don’t want to see your face again tonight.”

Just when you wanted to ask why he was here, you forgot to ask when he gave you that same smirk again. You’re not sure how he did it, but he made you feel hot without even saying anything.

“Another drink?” He points to your glass, but eyes are never leaving yours. You nod and ask for another wine.

“Wine? Sure you don’t want a cocktail or something?”, he asks. 

“Let me guess, you thought I was that kind of girl”, you tease. He leans with his elbows on the bar, his eyes still full of mischief while watching you.

“Nah”, he shakes his head. “But most women like to test a guy like me and ask for the most expensive drink on the list.”

“And what exactly is a guy like you?”, you bounce back. He smirks, but doesn’t answer. Instead he just hands you your wine and puts a strand of hair behind your ear.

You look into the crowd again, now spotting a familiar red haired woman. She gives you a big thumbs up, supporting the fact that you’re flirting with a very handsome guy. You raise your glass at her, giving her a small wink before turning your attention back at Steve.

“That your friend?”, he asks. You nod. All he does is letting out a little hum, watching her for two more seconds before staring into your eyes again. It still makes you nervous, but the good kind.

“What?”, you ask, more automatically than curiously. You tend to do that when you’re nervous.

“’M trying to get a grasp of you”, he answers.

“That makes two of us.” You let your eyes wonder of the rest of his body. Broad shoulders, a black blouse that’s a little tight, but you don’t mind. Another tattoo on his wrist, some kind of arrow.

Something about this guy screams trouble, though. You shouldn’t get involved in whatever he is. But the mystery intrigues you. It makes you curious to find him out. Even if it’s just for a night.

His hand brushes over your hip, plucking lightly at the fabric of your dress. As he takes a step closer to you, you feel how your heart is thumping louder in your chest. He leans in, but misses your lips and goes to your ear instead.

“Are you going to give me a good time tonight, princess?” His hot breath rakes down your neck, nose lightly brushing your ear. The way he said ‘princess’ has your legs weaken, a weird tingling sensation all over your skin.

His hand now set on your lower back, fingers still scraping, as if he still needs to convince you. As if he didn’t reel you in the moment you two locked eyes.

“I think ‘good’ is an understatement”, you dare to say. His hand tightens at that, pushing you closer to him. Chest flush to him. He’s so close to you now. His scent addicting, his grip weakening. He has you all wound around his finger. But the fun part is that you got him too.

You can see it in his eyes. He’s not entirely sure of what’s causing it. He’s not used to this. A woman that doesn’t bow to him whenever he asks her to.

“Why don’t you prove it.” His face dangerously close to yours. You’re sure that the tension can be felt on the other side of the room as well.

“Happy to”, you say, ripping yourself away from him, leaving him confused. He’s now empty handed. You look at him seductively.

“Are you coming or what?”


	2. Two: start loving me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve takes you home. ;)

“No fucking way”, you sigh as you get out of the car – which you’ve been in for, for under five minutes. “You’re joking, right?”

Steve gets out of the car too, parked next to two other, but just as expensive, cars. The building in which he just parked, is massive and probably has huge apartments in them.

He puts his arm around your waist, pushing you towards the elevator. Obediently you walk with him, mouth agape as you watch all the fancy cars parked there. Lamborghinis, Porches, BMWs, they’re all next to each other, one more expensive than the other. 

“So, is that your only car?”, you ask, sarcastically waving your hand as if you’re not impressed. He chuckles and shakes his head.

“Got two down in New Jersey, and this one is also mine”, he says, just when we walk past a Ferrari. “It’s the 488 Pista.”

“Oh.. Right”, you say, quirking an eyebrow. A little laugh leaves his lips, making you smile as well. 

The urge to ask him what he does to earn this kind of money, comes to mind. But on the other hand, you don’t dare to ask. You’ve seen the club, the shadiness of it. You’ve seen how he spoke to that Sam guy. It’s probably best if you don’t know, to stay out of trouble.

When you thought that the biggest shock has already passed, you were in for another surprise when the elevator dinged and opened at his apartment. 

The black marble tiles on the floor shine as the white walls reflect. It looks fancy, but homey at the same time. A grey soft couch in the middle of the room, with a fireplace on the side and a big tv in front of it. You feel so out of place right now.

He walks towards another room and you blindly follow him, mouth agape as you try to find words to describe his house.

“Fuck, this is…”, you don’t know how to finish that. Beautiful? Mesmerizing? Out of this world? Every positive word in the English dictionary?

A beautiful kitchen comes in sight. There’s a big island in the middle, big enough for your entire family to join. He walks past and opens one of the billion cupboards that this kitchen offers.

“Want something to drink?”, he asks. You nod. He takes a little step aside, suggesting you to be more specific. There’s a row full of liquor. Whiskeys, wines and more.

“Uh- a whiskey is fine. Anything, really”, you say dumbfounded. He shrugs at that and gets a bottle out.

“This is my favorite one”, he says, letting you inspect the bottle. Whistlepig it says. It looks quite expensive and you’re guessing that it probably is.

“I’m always willing to try”, you say. God, why does everything you say sound so stupid right now? Where’s the confident woman at the bar? She needs to come back and fast, before she loses this guy.

“Mind if I get myself some water?”, you ask, trying to regain some control on this situation. He watches you again, eyes softer than they were in the club. 

“Feeling alright?”

“Just a dry mouth”, you explain. 

He served you the whiskey, along with a glass of water, in a minute. You give him a light smile and brush his hand as you take it from him. 

“Thank you.” A few sips from your water before you try the whiskey that’s in front of you. He watches you curiously as he takes a sip of his own. 

“What do you think?”, he asks, not even giving you a chance of responding on your own. You make a grossed out face. His smile sinks, corners of his mouth dropping to his chin. 

The expression makes you laugh, not able to hold up your act for more than two seconds. “I’m kidding! It’s sweet and hot at the same time. Tastes dangerous”, you say, pausing a few seconds. “Just how I like them.”

It’s daring for you to say, but his reaction shows that he likes it. Shuffling closer, face only inches away from yours, hand now neatly placed over yours while the other still holds the sweet liquor. His eyes are just as piercing again as they were in the club.

“Then you’re definitely going to like me”, he chuckles. 

You wanted to wait. You didn’t want to give in to your urges. You wanted him to take the lead. But the way he said it, took away the last giving fuck of keeping yourself modest.

His lips feel soft on yours, a little wet with the whiskey that still lingers on there. The kiss turns hot and heavy, you slowly try to put down your whiskey, but you spill it when he pushes you roughly against the edge of the island. 

He isn’t bothered by it at all as his hand it tightening on your hips, breathing into your mouth, his leg pushing itself in between yours. Fuck, he knows how to handle you well.

“Anything I need to know?”, he asks breathily.

“I like it rough and dominant”, you say, biting his lip after, making him grunt.

“Fuck”, he whispers. “Good thing that I’m good at giving orders.”

You whimper at that. “You?”, your voice trembles.

“I like it when you tell me how good it feels” His hands now cup both of your breasts. 

“Good thing”, you pause for a second when he rubs your clothed nipple. “- that I like talking.”

One of his hands snake away from your breasts, up to your chin. He grabs your jaw firmly, making you look at him. The rest of his hand rests on your throat, making your senses run high. “I hope not too much. I don’t like brats.”

You swallow, and you know that he can feel it. You stare at him though, but decide not to speak. It makes him grin, knowing that you talk just the way he wants you to.

He removes his hand again, taking it back to your breasts, kneading them harshly. It makes you moan softly, head thrown back lightly. Steve sees this as a chance to savor your neck with sloppy kisses. A dangerous slow suck here and there, tongue gliding over it after. 

He’s teasing you mercilessly. His leg a little deeper between your thighs, putting pressure on your folds. You try to ride his leg, trying to get some friction - some relief. But it only makes him stop in his tracks. 

“A little eager, aren’t we?”, he hisses. “Did I make you so desperate that quickly?”

You nod, embarrassed to say it aloud. 

His hands move to your ass as he moves himself to the middle. “Jump”, he whispers while still biting your lip. You obey, wrapping your legs around his hips, locking your feet so you won’t fall. You can feel his biceps around your waist, how he grasps you, squeezing your ass to make sure you won’t slip away under his touch. 

He walks out of the kitchen, through the living room. You’re not quite sure where he’s going, but your guess is that he’s bringing you to his bedroom. 

A hard tud against some wooden door has you by surprise though. His lips crash on you again, your hands are in his hair in a second. “Fucking can’t resist”, he rambles against your lips. You want to giggle at the compliment that he couldn’t wait until you were in the bedroom.

“I-”, you sigh out of breath from the smack your back just got. “I want you. Please, fuck, please.”

He growls lowly, but your back is released from the door again, a small breeze indicating that he opened the door. A few seconds after you get thrown into something soft. Steve looks bewildered as he watches you. A cling of a belt has you looking down, white underwear already visible.

“Please, let me do it”, you beg. He stops, putting his hands in the air as if he’s done something wrong.

“Go ahead, princess”, he smirks. You act on his words, getting on your knees in front of him. There isn’t much work left but to put his pants down. He helps you by stepping out of them. 

Innocently you look up at him, batting your eyelashes seductively, before you work on his underwear. There’s a wet spot, right where his tip must be. The straining already leaves little to imagination, it’s huge and thick. Carefully, you ripple his underwear to the ground. 

“Fuck me, that’s big”, you say a little bit more to yourself than to him. It makes him chuckle, a little moment taken out of all the roughness he’s been giving you. His hand tugging your hair softly takes you back to him, though.

“Wanna have a taste?”, he asks. You nod, making him pull harder. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Yes, god yes”, you sound a little desperate. But that’s what he likes, so you sometimes gotta give it a little. 

Your tongue glides over his length, trying to wet it before taking it in your mouth. He sighs at the feeling, his hand still in your hair, but now massaging your scalp unconsciously. You take his tip in your mouth, toying with it, stimulating his highest senses. 

Slowly you start taking the rest of it. Looking up at him, but he has his eyes closed, lips pursed. It’s a beautiful sight. Amazing how you get a man like him so pouty under your touch. 

You start thrusting with your head, a pace that’s building up some speed. His moans getting louder, stimulating words leaving his lips. Tongue dragging over his thick vein, cheeks hollowed as you tighten your lips even closer around his cock.

“Fuck, doing amazing, fuck.” His hoarse and breathy voice indicates even more that you’re doing an excellent job.

“Take it deeper, princess”, he commands, pulling your hair at the same time. “Now. Take it deeper.” You try to follow his order, fighting your own gag reflex. His tip now hitting the back of your throat, earning a big low growl from him - it sounds so animalistic and manly.

“Like that”, he whispers lowly. “Yes, like that. Fucking good girl. Keep going.” And that’s what you do. You keep going. You even get your hands in the game, cupping his balls, playing with them. It makes him swear once more, making you look up.

The only noises in the room are your slurping sounds and Steve’s groans. You can feel how damp you are, slowly getting more and more impatient to get some relief yourself. Legs clenched together while you keep sucking his cock. 

Both his hands are going through your hair, motivating you to go on. Your jaw is starting to hurt, lips feeling a bit sore, but you don’t stop. His groans are way too stimulating to stop now. His praises too pretty.

He stops you, though. A little bit out of nowhere, he pulls back, hands still clinging in your hair. Eyes full of lust, every muscle in his body now strained.

“Don’t want to end the night too soon”, he says. “Now get on the bed.”

You do as he says, back of your head hitting the pillow a few seconds after. He hovers over you, a searing kiss followed. It’s sloppy, hungry. Teeth almost clashing. Your hands are in his hair as he drops himself on you, cock pressuring your still clothed folds. 

“Get rid of the dress”, he says, giving you a little space to do so. It’s a little bit harder than you think it is, getting the dress off while still laying underneath him. And when he sees you struggling, he helps. He grabs the hem of your dress and slowly pulls it over your head, making sure that his fingers lightly touch your hips and breasts in the process.

He gives you one last harsh kiss before exploring the rest of your body. His hands palming your breasts for a second, before moving on to the lower part of your body. His lips trace your stomach, from the bottom of your bra to the top of your panties. Slowly he traces a path, tickling your senses, making you squirm under him, desperate for his touch.

He gives a light kiss on your folds, which are still covered with your soaked panties. He takes them off swiftly, in one motion as your hips jerk up to help him.

A hot breath on your inner thigh has you whimpering already. It makes you blush, how he didn’t even touch you and you were already a mess. He just chuckles as his fingers brush over your folds, teasing you from getting real friction.

“God, please”, you whine high-pitched. 

He looks up with the most devilish smile. “What?”

“Please start”, you breathe. 

One last low chuckle, his eyes focused on your clit. His tongue finds it easily. Tender and slow, that’s how he’s treating it. His hands hold on to your hips as you try not to buck your hips too much.

“Oh, fuck.” You feel slightly dizzy as shocks of pleasure go through your body. He makes little figure eights with his tongue, slowly adding more and more pressure onto your clit. It has you driving insane, wanting more. 

“Feels so fucking good, fuck you’re good”, you mumble, but hard enough for him to hear. He smiles from the praise you’re giving him and he shifts a little, making room for his hand to give you even more pleasure. 

His finger enters you, it makes you arch your back off the bed. Slowly pumping in and out, crooking it slightly. His tongue works on your clit again, faster and a little less careful now. 

“Oh my god, keep going, please - don’t stop”, you ramble. He’s not planning on stopping. Not until you come undone, which won’t last long anymore. 

A second finger now in you, stretching you lightly, his thumb now taking over his tongue to let him get a little bit of air. You’re now unashamed bucking into him, climax getting closer and closer.

He watches you, now that his tongue isn’t delved into your pussy. Your eyes closed, nose scrunched from pleasure, mouth wide open. Sometimes a harsh moan leaves your lips, sometimes it stays silent. He can’t help but smile to himself, feeling proud of how good he makes you feel at this very moment.

“I’m gonna cum, oh my god, I’m gonna cum”, you warn him, getting him back to the moment. He gets his tongue back on your clit, and it’s the last straw. Your legs shake, back arched from the mattress once again, his name falling multiple times from your lips. 

His fingers leave you when the moans get quieter and your movements get uneven. God, how he wants to fuck the shit out of you after this. He wants to hear your sweet moans and cries while his dick is deeply buried into you. 

“Liked that?”, he asks darkly. You nod, watching him get back on you again. His cock is pressuring your clit, making you twitch one more time. 

“Fuck, that was so good”, you say to confirm your nod. He kisses you again, lips still wet from your juices. Your hands go through his hair. He smells so good. Even when covered in sweat and your own juices, you can smell his cologne. 

“And now, please fuck me”, you say with a little chuckle. He laughs, giving you on last kiss that could be described as sweet. After all this roughness, a little tenderness is what you both crave. But only for a minute.

His tip teases your entrance as he watches your face. You close your eyes automatically, spreading your legs, feet resting on his lower back. Slowly he thrusts in while your walls stretch. 

“Fuck, so tight”, he whispers. One of his hands are on your hips, the other next to you on the pillow to support himself. He starts pumping slowly, but quickly picking up a fast pace. 

“God, you’re big”, you say once again. He growls in response, pounding into you harder and deeper. A loud moan followed by you, your fingers on his back, nails scraping it lightly. 

“Tell me what you want”, he sighs, head in your neck as he hums lowly.

“Fuck me hard”, you plead. “Make me sore as fuck.”

His head tilts again as he presses his forehead to yours. Eyes closed, but it feels so intimate to you. You’re not sure what makes it so intimate. 

The sound of skin slapping on skin, the bed lightly creaking, your moans echoing through the room. It has him going crazy. He can feel how he’s getting closer to his own release, even though you just got started. 

“Fuck, not gonna hold on for long”, he pants. One of your hands leave his back and grab his hair, pulling it lightly. 

“F-fuck. So good, feels so good”, you stutter. “Want you to cum.”

“Want you to come with me.” He has trouble with saying that sentence, so he takes it down a notch. He won’t let himself finish without you, as much as he’d want to. 

Your hand dissapears between the two of you and starts rubbing your clit. He watches down, something he shouldn’t have done. He saw the most fucking beautiful thing ever. His member disappearing in you, while you’re getting off with your own hand. It has him going crazy.

He looks at you and you look back at him. “Steve”, you whisper as you feel another climax approaching. “Steve, fuck.”

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last. Gonna come”, he says when he picks up the speed. 

“Me too, so close. Please, fuck me hard”, you breathe as you’re so close to the edge again. He does what you’re asking him, pounding into you hard. 

You fall flat, every muscle now relaxing as you reach your climax. Small ‘oh’s are leaving your mouth, but you’re not able to do more than that. His hips stutter, his thrusts falter as he comes undone. Your name falls of his lips multiple times, his hand grabbing the pillow harshly, other hand squeezing in your breast. 

Hard breathes, sweaty bodys. He slowly pulls out of you and let him fall next to you. You smile at him, he smiles back. Satisfied and blissed out, that’s what you both are.

“Ugh, I need to go to the bathroom”, you sigh. He snorts and points his finger to a door on the right. It’s another one then you came in.

As much as you don’t want to get up, you force yourself on your feet, slumbing towards the bathroom. You’re hardly even surprised anymore when you see the luxurious state of it. A lot of gold, white and marble. It makes you squint your eyes, the sharp light uneasy to watch where you’re going. 

After you’re done, you come back and see Steve putting on another pair of black boxers. God, he’s absolutely beautiful. You feel like you have more time to watch him now than you had an hour ago. 

His body is absolutely ripped, every muscle on his body trained and looking perfect, as if he were to campaign for a Hugo Boss advertisement any day now. You slip into bed again, butt naked, since you didn’t really bring any panties with you tonight. 

Wait, maybe he didn’t want you to stay over?

“God I’m thirsty”, he sighs. “Want some as well?”

You nod. You didn’t know you were thirsty until he asked. He disappears, only to come back with two glasses of water a minute after. He gives you one and then joins you back in bed on the other side. 

“Do you…”, you hesitate. “Do you want me to leave?”

He laughs, almost making him choke on his water. “I’m not a douchebag.”

The last thing you expected to happen, was for him to cuddle you once you laid down. But he did. He pulled you closer, into his chest and sighed contently. It feels safe, but a little bit awkward at the same time. He is - after all - a stranger. 

But you cuddle back. Your arm around his waist, hand on his back. You nuzzle even more into his chest. Legs are intertwined. Affection that you both don’t mind to share. He might be trouble, but he knows how to treat a woman.


	3. Three: can we burn something

You feel so soft. This bed feels so soft. Slowly you open your eyes, white bed sheets are ruffled over your body. You see a little hazy at first, but you’re almost immediately aware that you’re not waking up in your own bed. 

Where’s Steve? You look around, but you’re the only one in the big bedroom. It feels alone, waking up by yourself like this. Are you supposed to just walk yourself out or roam around the house to find him? Didn’t he think of waking you? But then again, he probably would have woken you up if he wanted you gone. He would’ve said last night that he wanted you out.

God, last night was… great. It was the only way of thinking back at it. You moved your legs, checking how sore you were. It was alright, you’re definitely going to feel that stretch for the rest of the day, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s a great reminder of your amazing night. Something to daydream about when you have lectures. 

Lectures. Shit. What’s the time?

You shoot up, looking at the table you left your phone before you went to sleep. It’s still there, but on a little tray with some breakfast on it. Oh my god. Is he for real? He made you breakfast? Or ordered you breakfast? That’s… cute. 

A glass of water, orange juice and some bread with cheese and ham. First thing you do is chug the glass of water, which feels great. Your throat was so dry. 

You grab the sandwich with ham and cheese from the plate, along with your phone. 10 AM, classes start at 12. A few scrolls through social media and your messages. Wanda already sent you ten texts saying how urgently she needs to speak to you at school, stating ‘you were not the only one who got laid’. A little laugh leaves your lips as you take a bite from your sandwich.

Still, it feels like you’re intruding while he’s not around. Even though he left you like this. You’re a little hurt he wasn’t there when you woke up, but that’s a feeling you hide for yourself. He’s a one night stand, so you try to not expect anything from him, even though you secretly do.

With your plate in hands, you walk to the door. Maybe he was up early and decided to watch some TV. He made you breakfast, so that meant that he did care, right?

You open the door and step out of it, still a little bit lost in your mind about where he could be. All of those thoughts disappear when you look around the room. Six people are spread around the room. Steve’s in the middle of it with some guy tight up to some chair.

The plate falls out of your hands, breaking into a million pieces on the floor. The guy looks wounded, like he has been in a big fight. Steve’s leaning forward, his coat hanging over another chair in which he has taken place. He’s in a white blouse and grey pants, no sign of blood anywhere. 

Everyone in this room is now looking at you. You drew the attention with that plate. Oh god, oh no. You’re not sure in what kind of situation you just stepped, but you were pretty sure that you didn’t want anything to do with it. 

Maybe if you just back out now, they’ll let you go. Of all the things you heard about maffia, you know that they’re not too keen on witnesses.

“Eh- Shit- I- I’ll grab my stuff”, you panic. “I- I’ll pretend that I never saw a thing, I swear. I’ll just forget about all this, I- We never had a thing going on, I never saw this fucking place, I-”

When Steve calls your name, you grow quiet. “I’m glad you’re awake.” He looks so terrifying and dangerous. Shit, you shouldn’t have gone home with him. You should’ve listened to your gut, but you were too intoxicated. 

Someone stands next to you and you give them a quick look. It’s the same guy as in the club. His eyes pierce right through you, making you shiver. You do not want to mess with this guy. 

Steve walks to you, his back now to the beaten up guy. A little smirk on his face as he approaches you. He’s intimidatingly tall now. Where you loved his strong body a few hours ago, you were terrified that he’s going to crush you like a grape now. 

His thumb brushes gently over your cheek as he raises his eyebrows. You’re fairly sure he can see the panic in your eyes. 

“See, this man over here”, he doesn’t stop watching you, but his arm points to the man that’s tight up. “This man broke in. He wanted some things that don’t belong to him. And now… We have to fucking handle it.”

You don’t dare to look at Steve right now, so your eyes wander off to the guy in the chair. He has brown short hair, a big scar on his face. 

Steve turns around, taking a few steps to the guy. “How about we let the girl decided, huh? She decides if we let you go, or beat you to your senses.”

Again, he turns around. You look at the guy named Sam for a few seconds. His eyes are trained on Steve, a small shake of his head trying to convince him to not let you make a decision. You desperately hope that Steve listens to this guy.

“So, what’s it going to be?”, he grins as he’s close to you again. “Oh, and let me add a small fact that might weigh in on your decision.”

His expression changes. Into hurt, into grief. You could see his eyes going from playful to steel. A few seconds of silence, as if he’s trying to keep himself together, to let his feelings out of what he’s about to say. 

“He killed my best friend.”

“I-”, you stumble. You’re too afraid to say anything more, looking at the rest of the men in the room. That man killed someone, but maybe so did the man in front of you.

“Sweetheart”, he coos, again his thumb is trailing lightly over your cheek. “It’s okay.”

How in the hell did you get yourself dragged into this? Why didn’t you just stay in bed until he came in? Your brain is clouded with fear, any rational thinking is gone. You’re not made for this kind of life. You can’t make such decisions.

You don’t want anyone to get hurt, but at the same time it disgusts you that the man in the chair killed someone. He took someone’s life away. A father, son, brother, friend. He decided to take someone’s hopes and dreams. You just hoped that he did it fast, but something in you says that was not the case.

“C-can I ask questions?”, you manage to get out. Steve chuckles at that and grabs your hand softly.

“That’s smart. Very smart. Of course you can.” He leads you to the same chair he just sat on, straight across the guy in question. Now that you see him up close, you wrinkle your nose in disgust, but quickly hide it again.

His hair is ruffled, dirty and slick. His clothes are torn, dirty with blood and sand. But god, his smell. It’s sweat, weed, dirt, blood. It’s everything that makes you want to puke, but you swallow when you feel a gag reflex coming up.

You sat down on the chair and looked at him for a few seconds, before watching Steve again. It felt like you needed some reassurance to ask him some questions. You’re not even sure why you wanted to ask him questions. It kind of felt like the right thing to do. To kind of give him a chance to explain himself, as if he was in court.

But he’s not. And you’re not. You’re far away from the legal system right now. 

Steve gives you a small nod, his hand softly placed on your shoulder.

“W-what’s your name?”, you ask, way more unsure than you wanted to sound. The guy smirks. 

“They call me Rumlow.” That sounds fucking terrifying. 

“And why did you break in?” Steve’s hand tighten a little bit on your shoulder, you give him a quick look but he’s too focused on Rumlow again, eagerly waiting for his reply. 

He just smirks and looks you in the eyes with a playful glint. It scares you, even though he’s the one tied up. He killed a guy and he could kill you easily too. It sends shivers down your spine. 

“Answer the girl”, Steve threatens, his body leaning a little bit more forward. He was so convincing. Rumlow wasn’t really into a position to play, yet he did. As if he wasn’t scared to die. Maybe he wasn’t.

“Clint”, Steve commands. Some guy who was leaning against the wall, pushes himself off. He’s blonde, eyes like a hawk, the corner of his lips creeping up into a satisfying smile. 

Before you even register, he gives Rumlow a big punch in his stomach, making Rumlow collapse a little bit, spitting some saliva on the floor in the process. You wince, eyes squint together and your body jerks up. Steve notices and squats so he can look you in the eye. 

“It’s alright. He deserves it. He doesn’t answer and needs to be teached a lesson”, he says, eyebrows lightly furrowed when he speaks to you. It kind of makes sense to you. They want him to speak, and it’s not going to happen if they ask nicely. You nod your head nervously and look at Rumlow again, who’s groaning lightly, recovering from the punch that’s probably still staining. 

“Why did you break in?”, you ask again, more sternly this time. Steve smirks and gets up again, now leaning his hand on the back of the chair. 

“I was ordered to”, Rumlow grunts. “They wanted info, and I needed to get it for them.”

“What kind of info?” You’re not even thinking of what question to ask, this one just flooded out of your mouth as if you did this every day.

Silence again. This time, Steve doesn’t even bother to call Clint’s name again. He just nods his head to Clint, who pushes himself again from the wall, this time hammering his fist in his face. 

“I don’t know, okay!”, Rumlow yells. “I think about James Barnes, but I don’t know. They told me”, he spits out a tooth and a little blood, “to get in here, get some files from that pretty little office of yours and leave.”

You look at Steve, questioning if he’s satisfied enough with the answer. He nods at you, encouraging you to go on. Your hands are clenched together and so are your legs. God, you must look like a dog with their tail between their legs.

You didn’t know what to ask. You didn’t want to make the decision of letting him be tortured or ‘free to go’. Was that even a real option?

“Doing real good now, sweetheart”, Steve encourages you. It makes you feel sick to your stomach, but at the same time it fills your heart that you’re pleasing him. “Why don’t you ask him who ‘they’ is, huh?”

You swallow. “Who is… ‘they’?”, you repeat his question.

Rumlow doesn’t look at you. He looks at Steve, eyes are steel. This is no joke. Oh my god, this is serious. You don’t think he’s going to answer that question. Rumlow keeps his mouth shut, but never looks away from Steve. He does it on purpose. Looks like some powerplay is going on, but you’re fairly certain that Steve has the upper hand at the moment.

You know Clint can’t help now. One punch won’t get it out of him. This needs a little longer. 

“I think it’s time for you to make a decision, princess”, Steve says without looking at you, eyes still strained on Rumlow. You look like a pig ready for slaughter. Why is he doing this to you? 

Yet, your brain is working on a decision. One you probably already made before you even asked the questions. You don’t want a killer free on the streets, but at the same time you don’t want one hunting you down once Steve’s done torturing him. But maybe it won’t be just torture. Maybe this man will never see a ray of sunlight again. It gives you a little spark of hope, but you shrug that off immediately. You can’t hope that that scenario will come true. 

“Let him stay.” Your lips made the words before you even wanted to say them. You wanted to think about it longer, but unconsciously you made this decision minutes ago. There’s nausea that’s boiling in you right now, about the decision you just made, but you swallow it away. 

Steve smirks as he waves hand. Three guys take Rumlow by the arm and to the elevator. Your appetite is completely gone as you watch him getting dragged, here and there a little blood on the marble tiles. 

“You did great”, Steve tells you, helping you out of the chair. Your head feels a little dizzy, as if everything is slowly kicking in. Now what? He’s going to let you go to school and have a normal life, with the risk of you going to the police?

He grabbed his grey jacket from the chair, you spotted a little Prada sign on the inside of it. As he pulls it on, he walks towards the bedroom again, his head nodding to you that you should follow. And you don’t dare to speak against him at this moment.

“Sorry that you had to walk into that. This normally never happens. They never come to my house”, he says as he’s getting his watch from the nightstand. You slowly gather your things as well, even though you didn’t bring a lot. 

“I hope I didn’t scare you. I like you and I actually wanted to see you again. But I get it if you don’t want to”, he continues. You still stare at him. There isn’t really going on much right now what you’re thinking about. It feels like you’re still in shock and are having trouble of getting out of that.

“Would you like that? Repeating what happened last night?”, he asks, now looking directly at you.

It’s as if his eyes make your brain work again. Last night? Yes. What happened just now? Not exactly. You’d rather stay out of trouble, and that’s softly expressed. He doesn’t seem at all troubled though, with you witnessing what just happened.

“Why aren’t you scared that I won’t go to the police?”, you ask, eyebrows going up in curiosity. He just smirks.

“You won’t for a simple reason. Because you’ll be behind bars as well”, he shrugs.

“I’ll say that I was forced.”

“Didn’t hear you saying no, sweetheart.”

“I’ll say that I was scared for what was going to happen if I said no.”

A sigh before he answers. “You really think they’ll let you go free because of what you’re feeling? I could say that I’m sorry for beating up that guy all I want, they don’t look at that. You still did it, so you’re still going to pay for it.”

He walked over to you from the other side of the bed, getting rid of his tie and throwing it on the bed. 

“I won’t go to the police. Wasn’t even planning to”, you admit to him as he’s now standing a few inches in front of you. “But I could’ve. I’m just trying to grasp what just happened.”

“Look, again, ‘m really sorry for that. Gimme a chance. Lemme make it up to you.” He grabs your hand softly as he watches you with puppy eyes. You contain an eye roll. Not for him, but for yourself. Of how foolish you are for what you’re about to say.

“Next monday. And better treat me like a lady and take me somewhere to eat first.”


	4. Four: buy your pretty heart

You thought you were going to spend your entire day daydreaming about the night before, instead you were thinking over and over about what has happened.

Even when Wanda was gushing to you about that girl and how they spent the entire night dancing, kissing, talking - you had a hard time to keep your thoughts away and your focus on her. She looked tired, just as you. Big bags under her eyes, hair was a little bit more fussy than normal. You tried to cover your tiredness with makeup, which was pretty well done in your opinion. 

You were grateful it was friday, meaning that you could focus on other stuff on the weekend. Take your mind of whatever happened today, trying to suppress it til monday; when Steve is going to take you out on dinner and, well, probably fuck you senseless after. 

“Lets go shopping after school”, Wanda stated. She had a date on sunday and she knew that you were going to meet with Steve on monday. You told her about yesterday night, but you didn’t dare to tell her what happened this morning. You didn’t want to get her in any kind of trouble.

“Wan, you’re a genius”, you admitted, smirking to her. She claps her hands in excitement, her golden bracelets sounding like bells, making her look even more enthusiastic. 

_____________________________

You slumbed out of your class, eyes a little foggy from all the staring to the screen in front of you. The teacher had you noting everything he said on your computer. It couldn’t get any more boring than it already was - and that on a friday afternoon.

“What kind of dress are you looking for?”, you asked Wanda, trying to shake away the boring class. She hooked her arm into yours as you walked through the busy hallways of the school. You both didn’t care to look who was walking around, you just wanted to get out of here and into the city, focussing on way more exciting things.

“I think something laced. Black, maybe? Or would that be a bit too tame?”, she asks you.

“Depends on the dress”, you respond. “A little bit of lace, a shape that makes your figure look like candy and it can serve you well.”

The fresh air gives you new energy when you step outside. It’s pretty cold outside, but for February, it’s actually quite nice. 

A call of your name has you looking around. Some guy approaches you. Brown hair, little bit ruffled. You have never seen him in your life. “Steve sent me. He wanted me to give you this.”

A big grin on Wanda’s face, and you fake one too. It isn’t that you don’t like Steve, but at this moment you were a little bit terrified of what could be in the package. You want to , thank the guy, but he’s already walking down the stairs, acting like he never spoke to you.

“Open it, open it!”, Wanda squeals enthusiastically. 

Your heart could jump out of your chest when your hand moves to open the package. 

There’s a little note on top of it, almost flying out of the box as the wind waves lightly in the box. You grab it quickly and turn it around. 

Wear this and nothing else. 

Wanda giggles, you blush. A little paper still hides what exactly is in the box but Wanda’s patience is wearing thin and she gets rid of it as quickly as you can blink.

There’s a black jacket in it. On the inside a label saying ‘BALMAIN’.. Wait, that’s designer right? That’s a pretty well known brand. Not that you expected Steve to get you some cheap stuff, but designer? Did he really put that much money into you or did he send this to every other girl, asking it back after wearing it once? Ew, no, he didn’t do that. That’s disgusting.

“BALMAIN?”, Wanda gasps. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Where the hell did you find this guy- Don’t answer that.” 

“That’s pretty expensive, right?”, you ask. Her eyes turn big as she watches you.

“Yes, that’s fucking expensive”, she calls, still impressed by the gift in your hands. “And we’re not talking hundreds here, darling. We’re talking thousands. Two, maybe three.”

“Thousand?”

“Thousand!” She throws her hands in the air to give the words even more of a drama effect. 

You don’t know what to say. Or do. It’s kind of overwhelming, to be honest. You’ve met the guy not even 24 hours ago, and he already gave you the responsibility to decide a man’s fate and now he gave you a jacket worth thousands. You have to admit that it creeps you out. Alarm bells are going off, warning you to cut him out of your life and find a good man. One that will swoon your parents and will probably be better for you than he’ll ever be. 

But you’re flattered at the same time. Why would someone like him - a man with charm, looks, grace, money and a lot of female attention - invest money in someone like you? You’re not special in any way. You’re as average as can be. You’re a communications student, living in some apartment with two other roommates because you can’t afford to rent one for your own. You have some kind of barista job in the weekends, trying to earn enough to pay for your rent, food and some fun activities. 

“Maybe we should drop this first”, you suggest, looking at the box in your hands. 

As you walk, Wanda starts talking about her night. “She was amazing”, she sighs. “I walked up to her and straight up told her how beautiful she looked. Later on she told me she liked that directness, that no one ever does that to her.”

You’re so happy for Wanda. She’s been crushing on this girl for a few weeks now, but never acted on it. Apparently everyone thought that the girl was pretty intimidating.

“Wait, what was her name again?”, you ask, interrupting her story.

“Maria”, she answers quickly before picking up her story again. “Anyway, we started dancing, but I wasn’t sure if she was into women. So I kept my distance, and so did she, so I got more and more insecure. I looked over at you and saw you chatting with some guy. When I looked back, I saw her checking me out. And I’m not talking about girl-ready-to-bitch kind of checking, but the lesbian kind of checking.”

You chuckle. Her stories were always this over the place - but it was fun to listen to. She always knew how to keep you interested, waiting eagerly on how the story is going to end. 

“So that kind of felt like my que. Wow, I say a lot of ‘kind of’, don’t I? Anyway, I moved a bit closer, gave her my famous flirty eyes.”

You walk over a crosswalk and turn right after, only two streets away from your apartment.

“Did you kiss?”, you ask, not being able to wait anymore. You need to know.

“Oh honey, we didn’t just kiss. We made out, we did the dirty, we went down town, we-” 

“Yeah, okay, I get it”, you laugh. She chuckles and pushes you lightly when you fake roll your eyes. 

“Will you see her again?” Her eyes glow up after you ask that question. She nods furiously as she grabs her phone, showing you a few messages. Excitedly, you squeal lightly. 

“Thank you a thousand times for joining me last night”, she sighed as she hooked her arm in yours once again. A content feeling settles in you as you walk further. A few seconds of silence between the two of you. Cars pass by, people sometimes almost bump in to you as you walk further down the street. 

“And your night had to be pretty exciting as well, right?”, Wanda breaks the silence, wiggling her eyebrows. You nod, a little smirk on your lips. 

“God, it was good”, you sigh. You tell your story shortly but swiftly, letting details pass and not mentioning what happened the morning after. 

“And more than a one night stand?”, she asks you as you stand in front of your apartment door. You give her a quick look before focussing on letting yourself in. 

“I’m not sure”, you say. “I think we just want to booty call each other. And apparently giving me gifts.”

You let yourself in your room and drop the box on your bed. Again you open it, this time taking the jacket out. It turns out to be longer than you thought. He was quite serious about not wearing anything else. The jacket is long enough for you to cover up everything you want to hide from the public. But it also shows enough to seduce him. And he knows that.

_________________________

“Can you please stay another hour?” Your manager, Sarah, looks at you with her big puppy eyes. “Pretty, pretty please?”

A little smirk is on your face as you roll your eyes. “What would you do without me?”, you say as you put on the brown apron again, after taking it off just a minute ago. 

“I would be homeless and a failure. Thank you a thousand times!”, she cheers as she grabs your shoulder to give it a little squish. You smile and walk back into the little cosy cafe. It was pretty crowded, with a little line of five people waiting outside to get a free table. 

Slowly you check your half of the cafe, the front half. Your colleague, Brent, watches over the other half and Sarah is behind the bar making the best coffee of the city. She owns the cafe and made it a big success, promoting her selfmade cookies and waffles as her original trademark. And it works. Whenever it isn’t busy, you make small talk with the customers and they always tell you that they’ve heard from someone else that they had to try one of her delicious cookies. 

A man puts his hand in the air, making a little gesture to come over. You put on your smile and walk over. “How can I help you?”

“Why don’t you start by giving your number?”, he smirks. “And a cappuccino.”

Your hand balls into a fist, nails digging into your flesh as you watch his smug face. He watches you. Not even your face, but your body. He checks you out. 

“Sorry sir, we’re not allowed to give out personal information to our customers”, Brent hops in from behind you. You turn your back to the customer and mouth a little ‘thank you’ to him. 

You walk towards Sarah and ask her for the cappuccino the guy asked for. As much as you’d like to not serve him his coffee, you still had to be customer-friendly. 

“Why don’t we switch sides ‘til the d-bag over there leaves this place?”, Brent asks when he stands beside you before focussing on Sarah. “Oh and a latte plus a chocolate chip cookie for table fifteen.”

You nod, a little smile appearing on your face. You couldn’t be happier with your colleagues and your boss, they were all so attentive and supportive to each other. There was this atmosphere that made you enjoy the work you were doing. You’ve worked at other places where the ambience was a little bit different. 

The cappuccino appears on the counter, not a second later it’s in Brents hands and he walks towards the guy. It wasn’t the first time someone asked for your number - and you wouldn’t be annoyed if he asked about it nicely. But the arrogance on his face and his eyes on your boobs did not make a good first impression. 

“And the latte, cookie’s coming right up”, Sarah sighs as she put down the latte. You give her a quick smile. She grabs a small white plate and puts a napkin on it first before grabbing the wobbly cookie. 

See, the thing about Sarah’s cookies was that it wasn’t just your ordinary round cookie. It was a bit thicker, but still moist from the inside. It was a little bit warm, the chocolate was on the edge of melting, and the sugar wasn’t as overwhelming as most are. The moment you had your first cookie, you fell in love. You actually had to watch yourself to not overeat, restraining yourself to one cookie a week. 

As you walk to table fifteen, you take a quick look at it already. Just swiftly taking in the customer to decide what kind of small talk you can make. Most of the time you could see it in a splitsecond; some were here just to work, some were here for some social acts, and with some you had to guess.

But this one had you by surprise. He made your breath stuck in your throat. How in the living hell did he end up here? Did he stalk you?

“One latte and a chocolate chip”, you say nervously. With a little shake, you put down the latte. “I didn’t expect to run into you here.”

His blue eyes meet yours, making you hot all over. You’re not sure if it’s because of the nerves, because of the things he made you feel or because of the morning you’ve witnessed at his place. 

“It’s my regular. I didn’t expect you’d work here”, he countered. You give him a little smirk as you also put down the cookie. “Did Paul give you the package?”

“Yes, he did.” You didn’t know what else to say. To say it’s beautiful? That you like it? That you’ll wear it? That’d be cheesy.

“Good. I hope to see you in it tomorrow”, he smirks as he takes a sip from his latte.

“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t”, you tease as you turn around, moving your hips a little bit more as you walk to your next customer.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought of this chapter! You can also find other works of mine on my tumblr: howardpotts.tumblr.com


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